


Undercover

by quiet__tiger



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Contemplative, Drama, Gen, Sad, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Undercover's not so bad. Especially when it's not so bad.





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Dinner With the Family."
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal 13th-Jan-2009.

Undercover operations were often difficult, but they were also vital, which is why Tim let Bruce talk him into doing so many. Even the dangerous ones, like dating a girl whose father was an important member of the Falcone gang. Date her, become close to her family, both immediate and the entire mafia as best he could, and build a case to figure out the next big scheme.

Easy.

Except his fictional back story had to get more and more complicated, because his “girlfriend” kept asking questions. Weren’t girls supposed to like talking about themselves? He was content to nod and smile and play the dutiful boy, but she wouldn’t shut up.

Even worse was when he was invited to the big dinners that included the extended family, various Falcones with various legal and illegal operations. It was great for the case and Batman made him report after every date.

But sometimes... Sometimes the dinners made him a little uncomfortable. Like when he saw how loving the family was when there was no outside threat and people were either getting along or at least pretending to. These criminals and their family members were warm and open and fun, and every night felt like a celebration.

It was just such a contrast to the quick, quiet meals at the Manor, where food was fuel, and the sit down meal was just a quick respite between school work and training. When Alfred or Dick joined him and Bruce, it was better, but it still couldn’t compare to the large, bustling mobster meals.

Tim had never belonged to such a large group that shared so much even when they were trying to undercut each other. It was an eye-opening experience. The family even tried to include him in some of their plans, as if they’d assessed him and determined he would be around for a long time. He _had_ been at this for a while, trying to keep the relationship going even though her yammering and questions drove him nuts. It was for the Mission.

He’d even come to like some of the mobsters’ jokes and stories, and he worked to not cringe when more violent tales were told. They didn’t often go into detail, for better or worse, better because it wasn’t really dinner conversation, worse because every mention of a crime was one more item to add to the list for Batman’s case. Sometimes it even became apparent that certain horrible things were done in self defense, gang warfare at its worst.

However, it didn’t make it harder to turn in his final report with the drop zones and crew lists for the Falcone scheme. Fewer armed mobsters on the street meant his life was easier. And he could go back to being Tim Drake full time again, where there was less subterfuge needed on a daily basis. Usually.

After he and Batman rounded up thugs and gave them to the police—hopefully for longer than it took to post bail—Tim couldn’t bring himself to go home to the Manor. That oddly stark, depressing monument to tortured, orphan souls wasn’t good for his mood at the moment.

It wasn’t that he missed the bustling, happy dinners with the mafia. Not at all. But even though they were work, they weren’t _work_. Not like trying to avoid insanity at the Manor, like watching how he’d even started picking up Bruce’s table manners. Trying to make conversation with Bruce that wasn’t about work or school or crime fighting. It wasn’t all they had in common, no, not at all, but they were the topics that arose most frequently. Never a break. Unless he escaped to Dick’s or the Titans, but there he was only reminded of what he’d lost over the years.

Sighing, Tim shot a jump line and proceeded on another sweep of the city. Another hour or two of Robin meant he could avoid Tim and Bruce and the cold, cavernous Manor for a while and serve a purpose, and try not to think of the sweet, crying Falcone women as their boys were taken away, and a certain dark-haired girl whose heart he’d soon have to break.


End file.
